


Out on the Water

by ozonecologne



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Public Nudity, RPF, Semi-Public Sex, jet ski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 13:38:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6155404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozonecologne/pseuds/ozonecologne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's September of 2014, and Jensen has just closed on the house in Austin. Who better to take a look at it than the man who built a house with his own two hands?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out on the Water

**Author's Note:**

> First Cockles fic. I did so much fucking research for this shit. Based on [this horrendous thing!](http://ozonecologne.tumblr.com/post/127024317233/deanplease-dailywincestj2-so-you-thinking) Hope y'all like.  
> (Disclaimer: I have no idea how underwater sex works.)  
> Tumblr is [here.](http://www.ozonecologne.tumblr.com)

_Mish, honestly man, you gotta come see the house. The property’s amazing, and I’m not just saying that._

There is always a bit of residual discomfort landing in Texas. It’s hot, too humid to go running and especially too congested to do anything but swelter, sweat, and complain in the company of strangers. Sandwiches are like eleven dollars. Bacon and whiskey are in everything. Most Texans actually think they invented the breakfast burrito and that they own exclusive rights to all Mexican food ever. All either of those things has been good for over the course of Misha’s life is giving him heartburn.

But, alas. His best friend has just closed on a beautiful new house for him and his family, and Misha is powerless to do anything but enthusiastically agree to come check it out. It’s not like he has anything else going on.

“We want to start renovating soon as possible. You know, to have the house ready for JJ before she gets too big,” Jensen explains as he leads Misha through the front hallway.

Misha nods as he inspects some of the crossbeams in the high ceiling. “It’s a really nice place, Jen. You had a guy come check it out?”

Jensen snorts and ushers Misha into an expansive, mostly empty living space. “You _are_ the guy,” he admits. “You built a house before, right? Danneel’s jealous of the authenticity. Frankly, so am I.”

Misha scoffs to distract from the blush rising up across his face. “I barely even knew what I was _doing,_ Jensen. I can’t renovate your house for you.”

“Yeah, but you might be able to tell me if we should put the new garage facing east or south or whatever.”

“Sounds like you really have a handle on things here,” Misha teases.

Jensen shoves him with his shoulder, but he grins as he does it. “Shut up.” His eyes light up with a sudden thought. “Hey! Oh, hang on, this is the best part, I can’t believe I forgot to show you.”

Misha trails after Jensen as he rushes to the back of the house, shoving open a screen door that leads out to an enormous deck.

Misha’s eyes go wide. “Whoa, check out that view,” he says. With a low whistle, he adds, “Nice.”

Jensen nods, does that stupid thing with his tongue when he tucks it behind his teeth. Damn it, he only does that when he’s really genuinely happy and it’s so fucking distracting. “Water’s real nice, too. [Jared and I went out earlier this week](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cukIW_-8LdM).”

“He’s coming over later, right?” Misha asks, following Jensen down the steps of the deck but keeping his eyes fixed on the gently rolling, glittering water.

“Yeah, for dinner. Danneel’s making that pork loin thing.”

Misha closes his eyes. “Oh, yessss,” he murmurs.

“Right?”

They take a walk along the back side of the property – Misha pointing out where the humidity and water could cause problems along the foundation, keeping an eye out for wood rot, that kind of thing. Jensen listens with a furrowed brow and pursed lips, staying quiet except to occasionally ask a question or offer an anecdote his dad provided when _he_ had looked at the building. “You’re going to put a railing on that deck, right?” Misha asks. “JJ’s going to waddle right off of there and crack her head open.”

Jensen nods seriously. “Yes, yeah, we’re on it. We want to get the inside done first but that is absolutely on the list.”

Misha hums in consideration and wipes his palms on his cargo shorts. He’s been sweating for the better part of an hour, and trying to look his most confident inspecting Jensen’s house for him. He knows it’s only supposed to be some friendly advice, so he wishes Jensen would quit staring at him so intensely like that in his periphery. He doesn’t actually have all the answers and he’s starting to feel a little awkward trying to come up with some.

“Alright,” Jensen says at last. The sun is high in the sky and dipping just to the west, judging their progress. “You’re flagging. Let’s head inside for a bit.”

Misha frowns. “No, no, it’s fine,” he argues. “I’m not.” He is.

Jensen claps a hand on Misha’s shoulder, thankfully ignoring the slight dampness to the material. “Yeah, you are. Come on, be honest: how long were you on an airplane today?”

Misha sighs heavily in lieu of an answer.

Jensen laughs and rubs at the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Mish, I didn’t mean to keep you out here all day. Promise to let you cool off a bit.”

“Thank God,” Misha mutters. Jensen hears him and ducks his head with a snicker.

Danneel meets them back at the porch, little girl bouncing in her arms. Misha makes a beeline for her and barely even acknowledges Danneel's welcoming grin. “Nice to see you too, Misha,” she tells him.

Misha tears his attention away from JJ long enough to give Danneel a side-armed hug, pressing his cheek to her temple for a quick moment. “Hey, sweetness. Lookin’ good,” he says. He crouches back down to grin at JJ. “You’re getting so _big_!” he says to her. He Facetimed the Ackles family on JJ’s first birthday, but digital images haven’t done her justice. Even since then, she’s gained weight and a few more inches.

JJ hides her face coyly in her mother’s neck, and Danneel rubs her back soothingly. “Quit scaring my kid,” Jensen says, knocking his shoulder, but there’s no real heat in the reproach. He’s got the makings of a sunburn boiling up on the apples of his cheeks despite the baseball cap he pulled on. He looks more relaxed than he has in a month. Misha smiles at him.

Jensen’s still buzzing with energy, maybe from having Misha around but also maybe just from the excitement of starting a life back in his home state, so while Danneel and Misha lounge on the porch sipping some iced tea – JJ crawling between them – he takes the dogs and runs through a few games of catch. They both watch him from behind broad sunglasses and gossip where he can't hear.

When he jogs back up the steps, Misha and Danneel are hunched over Misha’s phone, scrolling through some feedback on Twitter about [the TSA skit](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o6dITnGKxXI). He isn’t one hundred percent certain, but Jensen’s pretty sure one or both of them have tears in their eyes from laughing.

“Come on, I know what will cool you down,” he says, apropos of nothing.

Misha looks up, scrunches up his nose as he tries to look at Jensen’s face without getting blinded by the sun. “I’m fine here.”

Danneel fights back a smile. “He likes me best,” she explains.

He grins back her. “You caught me.”

Jensen rolls his eyes and holds a hand out. “Glad you’re enjoying _my_ house. And _my_ wife.”

Misha takes the offered hand and hauls himself out of the (very comfortable) lounge chair. “Hey, I’m providing you with a service. I should at least get to partake in some of the benefits.”

Danneel nods sagely and stands, taking JJ back into her arms. “I should put her down for a nap anyway. Have fun, you guys,” she says. It would have been a totally innocent remark, if not for the wink she tosses from over the top of her glasses at Jensen.

Suddenly, Jensen’s rosy complexion has nothing to do with the Texas sun. He doesn’t even try to ignore the buzz he gets from having Misha’s hand in his, however briefly.

The dogs bound after them as Jensen leads Misha back to the water. He teases them with a slobbery purple rope toy that hangs loosely in his hand. “No way,” Misha laughs, when they get to the water’s edge. “Why do you still have these? No.”

Jensen smirks. “We rented them for the whole week. Wanna take ‘em out for a spin?”

Misha shoots him a very unimpressed look. “Jensen, it’s almost October.”

Jensen shrugs. “And it’s 90 degrees. Are you in or what, old man?”

Misha regards the pair of jet skis hesitantly. “Shit, I’m in I guess.”

“HEY!”

They both turn at the distant holler of Danneel’s voice. The clouds part, great wisdom is imparted down upon them. “Put on a life jacket!” she demands.

The voice is then silent.

Misha’s eyes widen in disbelief. “She is such a _mom._ ”

“You’re telling me.”

“What a fucking killjoy.”

Jensen reluctantly tosses the life jacket hanging over the back of one jet ski at Misha and takes the other for himself. “Well I’m only buckling one strap. So there,” he says defiantly.

“That’ll show her,” Misha laughs. In one fluid movement he pulls his shirt off over his head and tosses it back behind him, fiddling with the life jacket pieces.

Not to be outdone, Jensen follows suit. “You’re going to have a gross tan from your glasses,” Jensen mocks. Overcompensating maybe just a little bit.

Misha just looks… really good. A little squinty against the sun even with the glasses on, but that’s par for the course. His skin is practically glowing in the midafternoon light, golden and smooth, interrupted only by the sharp angles of his collarbones, his shoulders, the cords of his neck. He’s got a hint of tired scruff on his face, peppered here and there along the sharp cut of his jaw. He’s standing in Jensen’s new backyard pursing his lips and tapping one Birkenstocked foot and the light breeze is flirting with his already messy hair.

Jensen hastily ticks his eyes away and wrestles into his vest, trying his damndest not to drool. Season 10 filming is well underway and going great, but Misha hasn’t been on set for the last few episodes and _won’t be_ at least until next week. It’s not ideal, nor is it good for his peace of mind.

He twists the hat on his head backwards so it won’t catch the updrift on the waves and blow off, and with a pause makes a split second decision.

“What in the _sweet hell_ are you doing,” Misha asks, clicking the last buckle into place on his life jacket. _Nerd_.

Jensen smirks as he slips his thumbs into the waistband of his pants. “What does it look like I’m doing?” he asks, wiggling his clothes down.

Misha laughs nervously and drags a hand over his face, up under his sunglasses. “Don’t you have, like, neighbors? Or a sense of shame?” His dick is like. Right there.

Jensen smiles and plucks the sunglasses off Misha’s face. He sticks them on his own and smoothes his hands down his now-bare thighs, coming tantalizingly close to touching himself. “There. Now no one will recognize me.”

“Jesus,” Misha mutters, voice slightly strained. “You’re so stupid.”

“My house, my rules,” Jensen laughs. “If want to ride naked on a jet ski, I damn well will.”

He tosses the dogs’ rope toy on the seat and climbs on after it. He’ll throw it around with Oscar for a bit, who loves running through the shallows, and a pissy Icarus who tries valiantly to keep up but would truthfully much rather be sitting in Danneel’s lap in the shade somewhere. “Party on, Garth,” he adds, throwing a silly sign over his shoulder.

“Why do I have to be Garth?” Misha argues, just to be difficult.

“Because it’s Wayne’s Wo – never mind,” Jensen mutters. Misha bites his lip to hide his smile and moves to straddle his own jet ski.

“You sure you’re not going to lose any important bits?” he snickers.

Jensen grins. “Feels kind of nice actually. You should try it.”

“Pass. I already know I’m going to make a fool of myself _without_ the nudity.”

After a quick tutorial that involves a lot of stuttering and blushing on Misha’s part – Jensen’s naked lap and flexed thighs in full view, what the fuck, unfair – they set off on the water.

 

While initially kind of nervous about operating heavy machinery – isn’t there a rule about doing that while drowsy? – like all things with Jensen, playing on the jet skis is a great way to unwind. Misha’s placating smile quickly turns wild and genuine as they speed over the barely rippling surface of the water, wind ripping through his hair and crashing against his face. He’s got goosebumps up and down his arms despite the heat. Jensen, of course, is having the time of his life – challenging Misha to speed races up and down the stretch and showing off some serpentine swerving, all in a precarious squat. Legs that are usually bent a little at the curve are now pushed even further out, drops of water shine on the fine golden hair dotting his thighs, the long muscles of his arms tense strong as he bends over to hit a wave, a grin of his own beams bright and unyielding.

Misha spends most of his time trailing behind Jensen, letting him guide him around the area and spin circles around him for amusement. He won’t ever let him know it’s mostly on purpose. The view – believe him – is much better from the back.

“Havin’ fun?” this godlike imitation of a man shouts as he pulls alongside Misha.

“There’s definitely a watersports joke in here somewhere,” Misha calls back, instead of saying something stupid like _I want to lick every inch of you_.

Jensen just throws his head back and laughs.

When their muscles start cramping a little from fatigue and the sun begins to dip, Misha pulls up alongside Jensen again. “Don’t know about you, but I’m still pretty hot,” he says as he slips off the vehicle and into the water. He closes his eyes against the quick rush of chill, sinking for just a moment before bobbing back up. His shorts flap irritatingly around him in the water. He should have followed Jensen’s lead and just taken them off.

Jensen yanks one leg over the side of his own jet ski and shifts a little, nudging the two together, before jumping off and joining Misha in the space between them. He keeps his head above the water and hovers to the side while Misha combs wet hands over his face, rinsing away the sweat of the day.

“So? Fun, right?” Jensen’s voice is quiet now, almost a whisper compared to the exuberant shouting he’d had to do over the buzz of the jet skis. His voice is low and rough, scorching where the water is cold. Misha feels those eyes on him again, and there's a much different intent in his gaze than there was before.

He nods and tries to get a goddamn hold on himself. “Very fun. Very freeing,” he teases.

Jensen paddles closer. “You know I hate these shorts,” Jensen informs him. Misha feels Jensen’s foot trail up his bare calf until he teases the hem with a toe.

“I know,” Misha replies. His lips turn up at one corner, just the hint of a smirk. “Maybe you should take them off me.”

It’s a little hard to do with the life jacket on, but Jensen manages to groan and drop his head to Misha’s shoulder. He obligingly slides his hands beneath the fabric to palm at his ass. “That was terrible. You’re terrible. Why do I like you.”

“Beats me,” Misha whispers back, nipping at the shell of Jensen’s ear. “Apparently you find amateur carpentry incredibly sexy.”

Jensen hums against his skin and pulls Misha in closer, water lapping up around them. Misha tastes like the salt from sweating all day outside with him, the faint tang of old sunscreen, the smooth finish of the water. Jensen drinks him in like he’s dying.

“Missed you,” he confesses quietly.

Misha brings a hand up to Jensen’s neck to run through his wet hair. Rivulets of water slide down his back with the motion. “I know. Me too. Thanks for asking me out here.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. And with that, capacity for talking: gone.

Jensen lifts his head and locks lips with Misha, eyes slipping shut as quick and dexterous hands slide through his damp hair, tugging as they go. It’s going to dry all stupid, but he can’t find the energy to care. He parts his lips and Misha’s tongue slides right along his own like it belongs there. He breathes a tiny moan into the space between them, and tries his absolute very best to get closer.

He settles for wrapping his legs around Misha’s waist, awkwardly laughing when his life jacket balloons up near his ears. “Here, you know what,” he mutters, unbuckling it. “We’re not on them anymore, we don’t technically have to wear this.”

“Mmm, this is the _second_ time I get to watch you strip today. You’re spoiling me,” Misha murmurs.

Jensen smiles as he tosses the jacket up over the seat of jet ski. “Little home coming present,” he says, before he can stop himself.

Misha doesn’t say anything, but his eyes go all soft and gooey like they do whenever Jensen gets too sentimental. “For me or for you?” he says, putting on a show of teasing.

“Um,” Jensen shrugs. “Both? You know. Mi casa es su casa, or whatever.”

Misha unbuckles his own life jacket and flails for a minute trying to lob it up over the jet ski. Jensen reaches out to flick at a curl of hair already winding its way beneath Misha's ear.

They don’t say much more after that while they tread water.

Jensen’s arms wind their way around Misha’s neck, and he locks right back into place snug against his chest. It’s so much better without anything between them. He hums and licks inside Misha’s mouth, pliant and inviting just for him. Misha runs his hands up and down the small of Jensen’s back, stopping right above the curve of his ass.

“Do you think you’ll get freckles down there?” Misha asks, kneading the flesh in his palms.

Jensen digs his heel into the small of Misha’s back. The motion presses their hips together, Jensen’s bare lust undisguised. Hard and wanting. “Stop talking.”

Misha hushes an involuntary gasp. “Ok.”

It’s their own private little world here among the waves, caged in by two borrowed jet skis and only one layer of clothing between them.

They stay there, wrapped up in one another, until the last of the sunlight bleeds away behind the trees, and the shivers that rock their bodies are no longer just from the pleasure they bring each other.

 

Almost exactly one year later, when most of the major renovations on the house are done and they’ve started filming a new season together, Misha and Jensen find themselves out on the water again. This time they’re on a boat with their families – not in Austin, but happily tanned and laughing and with a bones-deep sense of comfort permeating the air all the same.

When their boat gets stuck, Misha takes one long look at Jensen and reaches for the button on his pants. Jensen’s jaw goes a little slack, and he knows just where his friend’s mind is going.

Payback is so, so sweet.


End file.
